


Side by Side

by womanaction



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: F/M, You're Welcome, this seems to be the first multichapter tom/ann
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-05-03 21:51:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5308142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/womanaction/pseuds/womanaction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom and Ann make a deal to be each other's wingmen. What could go wrong? Abandoned WIP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Proposal

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a conversation I had with Tumblr user trashyvulcanbitch about the wasted potential of Tom/Ann and of Donna & Ann's friendship. Other ships/characters may be added as it goes on.

So maybe it wasn’t ideal, sitting by herself in the little City Hall garden, but the sun was shining and her shift was over. There, look, optimism! Besides, being alone for the moment wasn’t so bad. It beat certain alternatives.

And, as if on cue, “Hello, beautiful,” Tom chirped as he took the seat across from her (which she happened to be saving for Leslie, but, you know, _whatever_ ). “How’s it going?”

“Isn’t that a Jonas Brothers song?” she replied dryly. It wasn’t that Ann didn’t like Tom, exactly, but seeing him in this good of a mood tended to spell trouble in one way or another. “What’s got you so cheery?”

He shrugged. “Just basking in the glow of my new _bizzzz-nizzzz_. _”_

“Oh, right. Entertainment 720, that’s…a thing.”

“Sure is, baby! And we’ll be blowing up any second now.”

“Great,” she said sincerely.  Tom might be a sleazy jerk some of the time, but she’d known him long enough to recognize that he really did have a good heart underneath all of that self-absorption. He deserved a shot at the success he seemed to want so desperately.

Maybe she didn’t sound sincere enough, because Tom seemed to notice she wasn’t 100%. “What’s wrong with you, cupcake?”

Normally she would have deflected, but she’d come to City Hall specifically to talk to Leslie and must have already hit Overshare Mode in preparation for a lunchtime talk with her BFF. “Nothing, it’s just – well, I don’t know. Nothing’s going right. I’m single, and I only seem to attract total losers. My best friend is making huge changes in her life, and I just feel like I’m stuck in a rut, you know? So I came here to talk to Leslie, but she’s super busy and running around with all kinds of campaign stuff so now I’m here eating lunch by myself.”

“Aww, you’re not alone! You have me,” Tom said in an overly saccharine voice. She rolled her eyes. “I’m serious, Ann, I’m here for you! Lay it all on Tommy.”

“I just did! That’s it, that’s all that’s going on in my life. It’s just a crappy day.”

He rested his chin on his hand. “Hmm, sounds to me like you need to go get yourself a new boo-thing. Go out, dance, have some fun, maybe buy yourself some sexy underwear. If you need someone to help you pick some out…”

“Be serious, Tom,” Ann said, exasperated. “I already tried the whole having-fun thing, and it was fun for a little while, but I want someone less, I don’t know, boring to me. I’ve barely met anyone worth a second date since Chris and I broke up.”

“Okay, don’t freak out, but I think I have an idea.”

She sighed. “I’m not getting back with Chris. Or dating you. Or, worse, Jean-Ralphio.”

Tom put his hands up in the universal “whoa” symbol. “Seriously? Jean-Ralphio is totally into Leslie, so that’s a no go. And nothing against Chris, but he is not on your level.”

“Really?” she asked, unwillingly flattered. “You think so? Because, I mean, he’s pretty perfect.”

“Newsflash, Ann, he dumped you! And then he started going out with Jerry’s daughter. Don’t get me wrong, she’s smoking hot, but she’s still related to Jerry! Wouldn’t that scare you a little bit?” Tom asked, now flailing his arms around quite a bit. She laughed.

All right, so what was the harm in finding out? Leslie “Crazy Idea” Knope was her very best friend after all. Whatever Tom was proposing, she could surely shoot it down. “Okay, Haverkins, hit me with that idea.”

He grinned. “You and I can be each other’s wingmen!” Off her look, he added, “I’ve been meaning to get back into the serious dating game myself. That’s me, the new reinvented Tom Haverford – serious businessman, serious dater. But I gotta step up my game if I’m going to find someone who can actually keep up with my lifestyle.”

“How do I come into play with that?” Ann asked, curious in spite of herself.

“Easy! The number one thing attractive to hot chicks – a guy with another hot chick vouching for him. Plus, you’re brilliant, so I’m sure you can help me find someone who’d be good for a serious relationship. And then I can do the same thing for you, keep off the creepy dudes and help you score someone worth your time.”

She hesitated. “I guess you would kinda know all of their tricks, huh?” she said, thinking aloud. “And maybe you could help alert me to which guys were weirdos early on. Yeah, you know what, what the hell, let’s do it. I mean, I dated the Douche, so any semblance of self-respect is already dead and buried.”

“That’s what I like to hear!” Tom said jubilantly, jumping up and doing the lame “finger guns” thing. She suddenly began to second-guess her decision. “Alright, I’ll be at your place at 7. Can I trust you to have fancy cheese?”

“7?” she echoed. “Jeez, Tom, whose grandma are you trying to date?”

“Pregame strategy sesh. Okay, I’ll bring the cheese. It’s gonna be dope, see you then!”

Ann was left feeling more than a little uncertain. When Leslie finally got there, apologizing profusely, she almost forgot entirely about the whole weird encounter. It was only at the end of their conversation, when Leslie latched onto her arm and asked if they could have some best-friend bonding catch-up time that night, when she remembered.

“I would – can’t. I can’t. I mean, I guess I can’t, right? I sort of made plans. Really, really ridiculous and absurd plans, which I should probably cancel.”

“What?” Leslie asked, eyes going wide. “Ann, are you okay? Are you having a stroke? Is somebody kidnapping you?”

“No, no,” she said absently, waving one hand. “No, it’s just…I sort of promised Tom we’d hit the bars tonight. I was talking and he was talking and it was like…I don’t know, some sort of buddy system? He wants us to be each other’s wingmen.”

Leslie looked at her blankly.

“It’s weird, I can cancel, best friends are more important.”

“No!” Leslie said suddenly, grabbing her other arm. “Tom’s right, you beautiful, well-proportioned, insightful goldfish. You have to go and find love.”

“But…best friends,” Ann protested weakly.

“It’s Friday night! Love today, friendship Sunday.”

“Why not just friendship tomorrow?”

Leslie tried to look nonchalant. “Well, I don’t know, there was that time when you went out and you were hungover the next day and we had plans and I didn’t know you were hungover and we hung out and you said that my aggressive energy was giving you a headache. Or something like that, I don’t know, I totally wasn’t mad about it.”

Oh, great. Unresolved issues with Leslie. Ann tried to smile. “I’m not planning on being hungover.”

“Well, still, Sunday just to be safe! Okay, I love you, bye! I hope you find success in the waters of love!” Leslie paused. “You know, because the whole goldfish thing.”

“Got it.”

“I’m not really sure why I said that.”

“I know. I love you! Bye!”

* * *

 

Tom arrived at her house at 6:55 p.m. with a bottle of wine and an entire tray of fancy cheeses.

“Wow, you came prepared,” Ann noted as she let him in. She was beginning to feel more and more like this whole thing was a mistake.  “Are those Adriatic figs?”

“Yes, they are, and yes, I am. Question is, girl – are you prepared?”

“Okay, I don’t really know what’s happening,” she muttered as she took the tray and bottle from him. “Are we actually strategizing for a Friday night?”

He followed her into the kitchen, where she pulled out a couple of glasses. “This isn’t just any Friday night, cupcake. You and I are both looking for loooove. And that means we gotta get serious about this whole thing.”

“Is the couch okay?”

“Do you have a place in your house that’s more…serious?” He raised an eyebrow dramatically.

“Okay, I’m taking these to the couch. Grab the cheese tray?”

Once settled on the couch, Tom whipped out a leather notebook and a pen. “Okay, let’s start with you. What are you looking for in a man?”

“Just getting right to it,” she said uncomfortably. “Uh…I don’t know. Can this be like a multiple-choice quiz?”

Tom didn’t laugh. His eyes, already cartoonishly wide, seemed to expand even further.

“Okay, um…nice, fun, takes care of me…”

“That’s actually the least specific thing I’ve ever heard. C’mon, work with me. What _don’t_ you want in a guy?”

Ann made a noncommittal noise. “I don’t know. I mean, you know, you never know. Sometimes people surprise you.”

Tom rolled his eyes. “And _sometimes_ Beyoncé makes a bad song! That’s a lie. Ann, look, you’ve been with a lot of guys, and I respect that. My game,” he said, pointing to himself, “recognizes your game,” and to her. “But if you don’t know what you want, you’re not gonna get it.”

“Get what?”

“What you want!” He groaned and leaned back against the back of the couch. “This is impossible.”

If there was anything that motivated Ann, it was people who didn’t think she could do things. And food. She paused to take a little more fancy cheese before defending herself. “No, try again. I can do this. Okay, things I don’t like in a guy.” She thought for a second. “Super tall guys freak me out. Like, over 6 feet, really. 6’2” absolute max. I feel like they’re going to fall over and crush me, and what if they get drunk or something and I have to take them home? I totally can’t do that.”

“And now we’re getting somewhere.” Tom wrote down “No NBA players” in handwriting that was (dammit) prettier than hers, and took a celebratory swig of wine. “What else?”

Ann narrowed her eyes. “Is that a purple gel pen?”

“Part of the process, baby,” he said easily. “Come on, what else? Likes, dislikes, secret kinks?”

“Okay, ignoring that last comment. I guess I like confidence in guys? To a reasonable degree, I mean. I don’t want to have to constantly reassure them.”

“Got it.”

A little more fancy cheese motivated her to add, “Someone who knows how to relax sometimes. I mean, Chris is great, but he’s constantly on. His relaxation is meditation, and mine is like, eating potato chips on the couch and watching _Sex and the City_.”

“Knows how to relax—“

“Wait, but not too much. Chris was way too Type A, but Andy was the exact opposite. Not even Type B. He’s like Type…V. Or X. I want a happy medium.”

Before Tom could even open his mouth, she took a quick swallow of wine and continued, “You know what else I want? Someone who can give me space. I feel like guys are always like, ‘Oh hey, come to my band’s show! Let’s go jogging!’ and it’s like, ‘Dude, I’ve got my own stuff’. I want someone who respects that about me. Oh, and how hard I work! Being a nurse is not easy, but all these gross dudes are just slobbering over sexy nurse outfits. Let me tell you, there is no such thing as a sexy nurse outfit. In a hospital, there’s going to be vomit on that thing five minutes after you put it on. At the same time, though, I want someone who can make me feel desired even if I got puked on right before I walked in the door. I don’t want to be someone else’s mom or weird protégé or sexual throw pillow, I want to be somebody’s partner.”

By the time she finished, she realized a couple of things. Number one – she had gotten pretty loud. Number two – Tom had stopped writing, and was staring at her in awed (?) silence. Number three – she was pretty proud of herself, actually. Huh.

Tom began a slow clap. “Damn, Perkins,” he said appreciatively. “Now that is a woman who knows what she wants!” Before she could bask, he tossed her the notebook. “Okay, my turn!”

Although she thought it was a little ridiculous, she dutifully made a column next to hers and labeled it “Tom”. What Tom had actually gleaned from her rant, according to his notes, was, “Not an NBA player; baller; chill but not too chill; likes potato chips and/or SATC?; partner” (the last word was underlined).  “Okay, Tom, what do you like or dislike in a woman?”

“Her body has got to be bangin’,” he said immediately, leaning back in his seat.

Ann crossed her arms. “No, you know what, you pushed me, so I’m gonna push you. Nothing physical.”

“Wha-at?” He pouted.

“You wanted to be serious,” she reminded him. “And that means moving beyond the superficial.”

“Fine, okay,” he grumbled. “But my comment stands. I’m with you on the whole partner thing, and in my case I want them to be the other half of the greatest power couple Pawnee’s ever seen. So girl’s gotta be supportive of me and my dreams.”

Ann wrote “rock steady”, and noticed for the first time that there were flecks of glitter in the gel pen.

“She should have her own stuff too, though. Not picky about what it is, although it’d be pretty dope if she was a multimillion dollar recording artist. But it’s whatever, just as long as she’s got her passions. And is ready for another one. If you know what I mean.”

“Gross,” Ann said half-heartedly, and wrote “miss independent” with a little smiley face.

Tom’s face was lighting up more as he went on. “She’s gotta know how to cut loose. She doesn’t have to party every night – not that I can’t keep up – but she can’t be a cramped office type.”

Ann scribbled “girls just wanna have fun” and looked back up. “That’s it?”

“She’s gotta love 90s R&B.” The cheesy grin was back, replacing the oddly genuine smile of before.

“No, I’m not writing that down.” She closed the notebook.

“Okay, but that’s the first question I’m going to ask.”

“No, no, it’s not. Listen to your wingwoman.”

“You can’t say wingwoman!”

“Why not?”

“It sounds ridonkulus!”

“Oh my God.”


	2. The Attempt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm estimating that this fic will be about 8-10 chapters as it stands now, but I keep thinking of new plots to incorporate, so we'll see!

“Hey, you were the one who said I couldn’t wear my crushed velvet blazer. The least you can do is try this. Come on.” Tom grinned widely. “Try-y it.”

“Fine,” Ann relented, and took the weird-looking and overly complicated drink that Tom had ordered from the tired bartender. He knocked his own identical beverage back with obvious satisfaction as she took a cautious sip.

Huh. She wasn’t sure it was worth the five minutes it had taken for Tom to describe it to the bartender, but it was pretty good. “Not bad, Haverford,” she said, and took another sip.

As soon as she put the drink down, he grabbed her arm. “See that guy back there?” Tom gestured unsubtly. “He’s feelin’ you. My bet is that he’s going to come over and try and get your number in thirty seconds.”

“If you’re wrong, are you going to buy me another one of these…whatever they are?”

“Whatever you want, baby girl, but I’m gonna make myself scarce for a few minutes.” Tom stood up and began striding over to some guy Ann had never seen before in her life. He seemed to recognize Tom, though, so maybe it was more than an excuse to leave.

She looked back over where the guy Tom had pointed out had been standing, and he had gotten about one foot closer to her. “This might take a while,” she murmured to herself.

After a couple of minutes, he finally made his way over to where she was sitting. “Hey,” mystery guy said easily. She gave him an appraising glance. Not too tall, good build, nice smile, and stunning blue eyes. She could work with this.

“Hey yourself.” She patted the other end of the leather couch.

He sat. “I’m Jackson.”

His cologne was pretty pleasant, too. Ann shifted experimentally towards him. “It’s kind of loud in here,” she said by way of an excuse.

Jackson nodded. “I’m, uh, I’m new in town.”

This conversation was not moving along very quickly. She scanned the crowd for her wingman, but Tom seemed to have totally disappeared. “Great,” she muttered, then remembered that she was supposed to be making an effort with this guy. “Uh, where’d you move from?”

“Tallahassee.”

“Nice.”

They sat in an awkward silence, and then at the same time that Ann began to say, “I’m from Michigan,” Jackson said, “Maybe you could show me around some time.”

She laughed awkwardly. “Oh, yeah! That could be fun.”

“Yeah.”

She smiled at him, close-lipped. He pulled out his phone. “So can I get your number? For…tour guide purposes.”

Automatically, she rattled off her number. Jackson thanked her and made some excuse to head out. She watched him go and wondered when she’d gotten so bad at this.

“How’d it go?” Tom said, sliding back into the vacated seat.

Ann jumped. “Tom, where did you—nevermind. It was fine.”

“Did you get his nu-umber?” he asked, grinning and leaning forward.

“Uh, actually, I gave him mine.” Tom pulled out his phone and began typing furiously. “What are you doing?”

“Just texting…oh, okay, she’s FaceTiming me. Get in here,” he said suddenly, scooting much closer to Ann, who was too disoriented to even push him away. Tom held up his phone and answered the call.

Donna Meagle appeared on the screen. By way of a greeting, she said only, “Perkins, what the hell! I thought I trained you better than this. You _know_ better than this.”

“What-what’d I do? I held my own out there!” Ann said, suddenly defensive. Tom made a “tsk-tsk” noise and shook his head.

“You gave him your number,” Donna continued, more calmly. “Rule number one – always get their number. It’s power dynamics. Did you like that guy?”

“I guess…”

“Too bad, because you can’t ever call him!”

“You can’t text him in the middle of the night when you’re lonely,” Tom put in.

“Instead, you are at his beck and call.”

“Literally! He can call you!”

Ann sighed. “Okay, guys, look, it was one guy and who knows if I’ll ever see him again. I promise to do better if I ever meet someone remotely interesting again.”

Tom and Donna continued to talk for a few minutes, but Ann’s attention wandered. She had the weird feeling that she’d actually disappointed Donna, and the odd thing was how much that seemed to matter to her. Donna was just so self-possessed, and Ann, having never really known that feeling, really wanted the other woman to like her.

Plus, she was just not good with people not liking her. She was still wearing April down.

Unfortunately, there was a total lack of acceptable guys with whom she could redeem herself. Every time someone new came in, it was either a gross-looking guy, someone too old to be here, or a girl. The latest was a really cute girl, and, as if he had a sixth sense, Tom finished talking to Donna and whipped around. “See anything good out there?” he asked before he caught sight of the new girl. “Oh my God, Ann, why didn’t you tell me that Aphrodite herself just walked in here?”

“Emphasis on the just walked in,” Ann said dryly. She brightened. Sure, her moves may not be stellar, but she had watched Tom strike out enough to know that this would not go well for him. It wasn’t that she didn’t want him to succeed eventually, but it’d be nice if he got a date at a time when her own ego was a little less bruised. “You need to go talk to her, I think that guy with the tattoos over there is eyeing her pretty seriously.”

That was a lie, there was no guy with the tattoos. Tom seemed to buy it, though. “Alright, time to see the Haverford charm work its magic.”

“Remember,” she called after him. “Serious!”

Tom reappeared a few minutes later, looking incredibly downtrodden. She pushed his drink back towards him as he slumped into the seat. Even if it was ridiculous, looking at his sad face almost made her wish that she hadn’t encouraged him to go.

“I don’t know how that didn’t work!” Tom said sullenly. “I thought girls like confidence.” His tone was accusing, as if Ann had somehow misled him about the entirety of womanhood.

“There is such a thing as too much. What did you say?”

“I don’t know. I said that she was super beautiful and…probably the hottest girl I’d seen ever, and that our babies were gonna be super cute and she laughed in my face.” He crossed his arms, reminding Ann irresistibly of a kid she’d babysat as a teenager. She couldn’t stop herself from laughing a little. Tom looked at her, obviously defensive. “I was being serious! You know, thinking about the future and stuff.”

“God, Tom, you can’t start with a line about your future kids,” Ann snorted. Then, trying to be a little more sympathetic, she reached for his arm to pat it. He snatched it away, and their fingers brushed for a brief moment before he turned away.

“What am I supposed to say, just like,” he dropped his voice, “’Oh hey, I’m Tom Haverford and I’m an entrepreneur, I like big cozy blankets and hot cocoa, what about you?’”

“Yes, Tom. That is how introductions generally go. Besides the…hot cocoa part.”

“But that’s so boooring,” he whined.

She took a deep breath to summon her patience. “Tom,” she said in her best patient voice, “you have to drop this whole bravado thing, okay? It just makes you seem weird and sleazy.”

He frowned at her, but didn’t say anything.

Ann oriented herself to face him better. “Okay, try it with me. Pretend you’re just meeting me and you’re going to make a good, _normal_ first impression.”

“But—“

“Try it,” she said forcefully. “Tell me your name, where you work, and an acceptable, non-sexual fact about yourself.”

Tom heaved a dramatic sigh. “Fine. My name is Tom Haverford, I work at my business, Entertainment 720, and I’m never getting laid ever.”

“Non-sexual.”

“My name is Tom Haverford, I have a company called Entertainment 720, and I’m going to die alone.”

Ann smiled and extended her hand. “Hey, Tom, nice to meet you. I’m a nurse and I’m also going to die alone. Maybe we could get cemetery plots near each other?” She shook his hand professionally, and then drew it back for a high five. “Now that’s how it’s done.”

He made a face. “But it’s so boring.”

“Fine,” she said. “Try complimenting me – again, not too sexual – and then introduce yourself.”

For a second, he actually looked a little nervous and wouldn’t meet her eyes. Then he looked up and said, “Hey, I saw you from across the room and I thought, ‘wow, that girl is really beautiful, I have got to go talk to her’. I’m Tom Haverford, I manage my own company Entertainment 720, and I am really interested in buying you a drink.”

There was the charming side of Tom again. Seriously, Ann had very rarely been impressed by him before, but she felt her heart speed up during his little speech. He just looked so sincere and serious about it. In an effort to dispel the weird mood, Ann smiled and said, “Nice to meet you, Tom. I’m Ann Perkins, and I’m a nurse. I also really like…dancing. And you’re welcome to buy me a drink.”

“You like dancing?” he asked, looking too excited.

“Well, yeah, I love it,” she said quickly, “but I was just, you know, following my own rules for – oh, okay.” She followed him out onto the dance floor.

“You’re a really good dancer,” he said, unnecessarily loud over the music.

Not that Ann didn’t appreciate the compliment. “Thanks, I used to do it all the time.”

“Like as a stripper?”

Ann was surprised nothing caught on fire with her glare. “And you wonder why you have no luck with women,” she sniped, without pausing her movements.

“Lame joke, sorry. What kind of dancing did you do? Ballet?”

“Nah, I didn’t start early enough. I did some modern, tap, and jazz.” She shimmied her hips demonstratively.

Tom whistled in appreciation. “Nice,” he said, drawing the word out to two syllables. “What made you stop?”

She shrugged. “Just got too busy for it, I guess. Out of the habit.”

“Maybe you should get back into it,” he suggested. Tom wasn’t a very good dancer, she noticed, but his lack of self-consciousness made his overly enthusiastic movements seem a little less dorky and a little more intentional.

The song ended and she momentarily hesitated. “Maybe I will,” she said finally, as the next song came on. It was slower and sultrier, and she really didn’t feel like attracting gross hangers-on by dancing to it. “I’m sure there’s a class or group or something near here, right? I’ve been getting more out of shape ever since Chris and I broke up.”

“But you can eat desserts that aren’t made of kale and seeds, so I think you dodged a bullet there,” Tom joked as they walked away from the dance floor.

She laughed. “Yeah, you might be right.”

Ann looked around. Although it was still early, the Snakehole Lounge seemed almost dead and not getting any fuller. Maybe it just hadn’t been a good night to go looking for love. “I should probably head home soon,” she said awkwardly.

“Yeah,” Tom agreed. “Okay.”

She could tell that he was trying to rein it in, but he was also obviously disappointed. Damn her tendency for empathy. Before she could say anything, though, he continued, “I had a really great time tonight, even if neither one of us got lucky.”

“Yeah,” she said, surprised at how truthful she was being. “I had fun too, Tom.”

Ann kind of felt like they were high school kids on a first date. Tom kept looking at her like he was waiting for something else. Finally, he said in a small voice, “Do you…think we could do this again?”

“Yeah, sure,” she agreed readily. “Why not.”

“Next week?”

She thought quickly. “Okay.”

He grinned suddenly. “That’s my girl!”

At the beginning of the night, she probably would have corrected him immediately. But at that moment, Ann found she didn’t really care. She just smiled back.


End file.
